Dreaming of the Moon
by cepham
Summary: Tifa awakens in a strange world.


**Prologue **

**A New Land**

Lightning slashed across the sky, iridescent light spearing from cloud to cloud in great arcs, motions echoed by rolling cracks of thunder. Drops of rain, fat and heavy, fell from the heavens, pounding the ground and transforming the landscape into a churning quagmire of mud and broken vegetation. It was a gray veil of falling rain which cloaked the land; subduing it even as it splattered against the ground, Spira's very bones seeming to resonate and thrum to the storm's heartbeat.

Raw electricity slammed into the ground, gouging its mark into rock before raking about. It tore through the scattered debris in the area, thin fingers of lightning crawling forwards, writhing in its forced suspension between sky and ground. Jade light shone like a beacon in the rain, leaving a steaming green tail as it wove about, affixed snugly in position as sleek forms danced about its wielder, scattering about fingers of flashing lightning. The woman's body twisted, a foot planting itself on rain slick stone while the other shot out, iron soled boot catching a lunging creature on the snout. The thing crumpled with the snapping noise of breaking bone and a muffled yelp, at least temporarily disabled. Recovering to her fighting stance, the martial artist punched forwards, a green sphere socketed in her glove blazing with power as it bent nature once more to her will.

The creatures about her bore a striking, if only superficial, resemblance to the Niblhiem wolves which propagated the lands about her home town. They were low bodied and four legged, covered with short coarse fur and mouths entirely too full of stained teeth. She'd never encountered these particular monsters in the past, but felt safe enough labeling them as some sort of variant, if a much weaker one, belonging to the wolf genus. It wasn't though they fought differently, also utilizing pack tactics to deliver small wounds to eventually run the target into the ground. It was simply that their movements were slow and their bodies frail. Once they dropped, they hadn't the capacity to get back up, invalidating the need for the heavy, and outlandishly oversized, weapons commonly wielded by members of Soldier.

Fire blossomed, splashes of white and orange bursting into real space amidst the remaining dingoes, sizzling as rain vaporized and flesh sloughed off of bone. Agile as the creatures were, there were a shocking number of casualties inflicted as incandescent petals of liquid fire reduced the pack to nearly half its previous number. Finally, suddenly, that was it. The remaining fiends slunk off, melting back into the darkness from which they'd come and leaving the woman to her peace.

And all she'd had to do was annihilate the majority of them to drive that point through their bestial skulls. Unclenching her fists, she exhaled, forcing her body to return to a calmer state with every breath. Normally she would have stretched after the brief skirmish, but stuck out in a downpour, the usual motions were foregone. Bringing a hand up, she paused briefly to brush a lock of rain slick hair off to the side of her face before turning to stare at the vague outline of paved road at her feet. It had been buried by the swirling mud what seemed like ages ago and, with the weather as bad as it was, she shuddered to think of what might happen were she to follow it blindly.

Then again, roads only did lead two ways, and she was willing to bet her last Gil that, one way or another, this one led to civilization. It was just a matter of choosing the right way to start walking. A choice that would be best made in the timeless tradition of lost traveler. Flipping a single coin of the globally accepted currency into the air, her arm shot out after it before it could be lost to the weather, hand snapping around it and bringing it to rest one side down on her other arm; tails.

Then, the corpses burst.

It was a soundless, if not unnerving spectacle. As one, the corpses faded to a monochrome, as though their color were being washed out by the rain. If such an event was a difficult one to notice, considering the circumstances, what followed was anything but. Quietly, as though afraid of what might be watching, the bodies crumbled into multicolored motes of dancing lights, erupting into colorful streams which danced up, unhindered by the rain. It took several agonizingly tense moments for the woman to realize that there was no present danger, and an embarrassingly long, if private, stretch of time for her to relax sufficiently to move out from the area.

And the rain drummed on.

* * *

"He is… still here," the wraith responds, obscured in darkness.

She yells, calling someone's name, though the voice is not hers and the name sparks only vague recollection in her mind. Concern perhaps, mingled with fear and desperation. She shakes her head, unable to place the memory.

"He's… laughing…"

Ghostly laughter and a glowing cat's eye dominate her senses and the ground under her feet washes away as though it were snowmelt. It's a familiar a sensation that reminds her, oddly enough, of home.

Something lunges at her, and she feels the near miss as it brushes against her skin. It's warm and safe, but at the same time distant and scared. There's no time to think anymore though, her world is engulfed by an inverted sky of green, ablaze like the sea as sunlight hits it at dawn.

Impact. Pain.

"…Cloud."

Blissful slumber.

* * *

Something agonizingly bright burned at her eyes, insidiously worming its way through tightly shut eyelids. She would have batted at it, but found herself unable to, limbs weighted down as though she'd deigned to place an overabundance of weights onto them. Not that she would have, having done away with the abominable devices for years, but the point remained. With a groan, her eyelids opened, thin cracks of light widening to reveal an expanse of bright sky, hanging overhead in a gigantic dome of near purity. It was decidedly blue, clear to the extent that it seemed that if she'd looked hard enough, she would have seen herself reflected and looking back down. Not a single cloud barred her view of the above world, a white hot orb burning away amidst the heavens and chasing the wispy entities away.

It was an almost scene of near surreal serenity. How had the Planet recovered so quickly after Meteor? It would have been a miracle if even a locale so far removed from the northern crater be so pristine after what she assumed were mere days following such a near calamity. Silently, she shut her eyes against the stabbing light. Where was she? It wasn't a location she recognized – white sands and the salt fresh smell of the ocean suggested a coastal area, either Junon or Costa de Sol. Scratch that, white sands meant the untouched area about Costa de Sol. There was nowhere else on the Planet with beaches with sands as pure and white as those about the Resort town; or so read the advertising posters found they'd found liberally pasted within the Gold Saucer. Of course, all of that speculation would have been pointless if she was stranded on some unexplored island, but the presence of a road suggested otherwise to the battered pugilist.

That much having been reasoned out, there was still the matter of getting to civilization. As much as she'd have loved to lie half buried in sand, or at least taken some time off to have a swim at a beach resort or even take a shower, fantasizing about it was unlikely to make it happen. With a strained grunt, the woman rose to a seated position, shaking her head and dislodging a downpour of sand from her dark locks. Halfheartedly, she picked at some of the sand that had become ingrained into her cotton top, brushing what grains she could off and simply leaving the rest. She'd have to replace the garment at a later date; it was definitely easier than attempting to clean the worn article.

With another surge of effort, the martial artist straightened her knees and rose to her feet in a cascade of displaced sand. Patting her exposed arms and legs to remove the caked sand which had settled over her body, she frowned. She could make out voices, oddly accented tones audible over the gentle breaking of waves – friendly? The worst case would see her beset by Shinra, though whether the company could possibly have the manpower to spare after Weapon had trashed Junon was highly debatable. Regardless, it would be best, or at least safest, to hide until she had more information. Scanning the beach for a suitable location, her eyes alighted over several faraway outcroppings of stone and…

"Aha, who's here?"

Too late – her brain screamed for her to react, adrenaline making her body feather light as she whirled about. Instinctively, her hands came up to cover her face, elbows tucked in close to her body as she prepared to fight her way to safety.


End file.
